The Importance Of Being Chuck And Blair
by Sky Samuelle
Summary: A series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3
1. Chapter 1

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR**

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Rating: Mature**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3**

**Episode 3.10: "The Last Days Of Disco Stick"**

"I can't believe you missed my triumph to babysit Little J."

"Oh, she isn't so little anymore."

A palm swats his arm, violently, and Chuck Bass smirks just because he can. He understood right away the kind of girl Jenny Humphrey was set to become, and he still has the feeling that no one else –not even Eric, who was so close to her, or Dan, with his accidental bouts of intelligence- is on that particular page just yet.

The truth is that Jenny is not like Blair or like Serena. Jenny has cunning and ambition like the former but craves the thrill of danger like the latter, yet there are dark, hungry spaces inside the smaller blonde that the untrained eye can easily miss. Chuck knows those spaces, having explored them in himself far too often. He thinks he somehow recognized the echoes of them at their first meeting, in Little J's coy smile and bashful gaze. He knew then she wanted to play him, to use him to get her pretty face on Gossip Girl by flirting a bit, giving out little in return.

He remembers how that got him angry, the way Serena's coldness and sudden loathing did in the damned Palace kitchen

Sometimes he wonders why he must remember so clearly those chilling moments of rage when coke and his happy pills were supposed to send reality away. Drugs never really kept that promise, but they had twisted him into a caricature of himself, and he no longer understands how he could welcome that change.

Yet it used to come easily, with the self-hate and the anger and the being alone, craving nothing but his own self -destruction.

It's still strange for Chuck, to realize he no longer hates himself, even with the stark memories of the ugly things he has done, the remorse and regrets.

He knows he is undeserving of this alien peace he has casually found, but that doesn't stop him from enjoying it with abandon. He drinks in the sight of Blair Waldorf undressing slowly, glowing with that sense of victory that becomes her so well. Knowing he doesn't deserves her no longer poisons his mood, because he is pretty much certain no better man could adore this woman like he does and she deserves to be loved in that consuming way she has dreamed of since forever.

Admiring her bare legs as her skirt slides down to the floor, the only place he desires to disappear into is between them, no longer the void.

"If you didn't get bored, doesn't this mean I no longer need to make up to you for it? "

"Perhaps I wasn't bored, but I was very annoyed. I would say that is worth even more compensation. "

He can say she is thrilled by the intensity of his focus on her. Blair is the most beautiful when she is happy, and it's been a while since last time he has seen her so satisfied with herself.

Seeing her like this is enough to make him forget all about Jenny, the way she has reminded him not of the-once-queens S and B but of himself, the loathing for his peers, and the boredom that used to push him to seek the edge.

Blair tilts her head to the side, taking notice of the tension in his shoulders as he sits leaning back on his bed, even while she diligently unbuttons her shirt. "Are you tired, Mr. Bass? "She asks, and her tone is flirtatious even if the question doesn't truly mean it to be.

"Not too tired to celebrate my queen"

"Good answer," she straddles him and for a moment it's _still_ so strange that the pale, soft lines of her half-naked body are just as inviting as the hint of fondness in her voice and in her smirk.

There's a depth in the level of comfort that Blair's beauty brings to him that belies the natural simplicity of sex. He unclasps her bra and takes her breasts in his hands to let go of everything else.

There's only Blair, the shiver of pleasure she can't suppress at his gentle fondling of her tits and the sweet skin of her throat under his burning lips. _Home,_ if he has ever found one.

It's a bit startling when he finds himself pushed back hard until he is lying down and her face is hovering over his.

"What would you say" – she adds in a breathy, sensuous drawl as her forehead leans on his – "if I broke to you that the two most judgmental people we know recently had a threesome with Olivia Burke? "

Chuck frowns, put off by the unexpected source of her unexpected amusement. "I would say I'm disturbed you are bringing it up _now_. Then I would add that Nate has beaten you to the punch. I have never heard him so giddy while talking about someone else's sex life. He was literally laughing his head off about the whole matter. "

Actually, Nathaniel called something like two seconds after he left Dan to his devices, barely containing his glee over the other boy's inexperience and the mental pictures of Vanessa boxing out the blonde actress with her loudness. Who would ever know that the odd relationship between Dan and Nate would end up being so entertaining? Yet, seeing those two boys playing friends while mutually looking down on each other for their very different reasons fills Chuck himself with a certain pleased giddiness.

Blair huffs, half-rising upon him, her pelvis sliding against his as her back arches. "Leave It to Humpty-Dumpty to be more oblivious than Nate with this kind of stuff. Even _I_ know the third party is supposed to be a stranger. His stupid Brooklynized hormones almost ruined my show!"

Chuck rolls his eyes and sighs in mock offense, his hands caressing his distracted girlfriend's side. "Well, I'm glad I have educated you and Nathaniel so well, but I'm starting to think you keep talking about all these other men for a reason."

His smile twists into a wince while her nails dig in his shoulder "Please, I have _taste, _Bass."-she snips, right before the suggestion lights up her brown eyes with a wicked delight- "although I'm sure Nate would totally love being your bitch."

"Now I'm _really_ worried."

He is not at all, and he is not frowning anymore as her fingers diligently open his shirt. In fact, he is nearly smiling, all the ugly thoughts relinquished, and he strongly suspects that was her purpose all along.

"You know I'm so right that it scares you. If we had ever been so stupid to have a 'sharing phase', I would be fighting for your affections now."

Her cool, soft palms caress his bare chest, making him feel so…clean somehow, like nothing bad could ever touch him again. "Perhaps I should reconsider then. I hear that Nathaniel has a lot to offer. And his family _adores_ me."

Blair pouts enticingly, a moment before her red lips descend to soothe the nipple her nails just scraped.

"But I'm more imaginative, trust me."

"Imagination is a quality I value a lot." He murmurs, closing his eyes in nothing but pure enjoyment while her hot mouth travels lower, from his sternum to his stomach, his hand fisting her silky hair.

"And this is why you won't complain when I shackle you to the bedpost" she murmurs back, grinning mischievously on his skin, and Chuck sighs.

He has indeed found the _perfect_ woman.

**END**

**A/N: What? No sex?**

**Well, I would hate to become too predictable… and the muse simply will be not commanded. **

**Next on: post 3.8, Chuck, Blair and their special brand of stress relief. Kinky Smut guaranteed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR**

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Rating: Mature**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3**

**3.09: "They Shoot Humphreys, Don't They?"**

"Serena is an idiot! She just ditched me for a _married_ politician." Blair spits, her high heels screeching loud on his bedroom's floor after the door slams shut behind her.

Chuck closes at once the book open in his lap – a tedious work of a Russian prolix author that Daniel Humphrey insisted on lending to Nate a week prior- and gives his girlfriend a puzzled once-over.

"Or rather for her work, once again." He smiles indulgently, cocking his head to the side, loving that his Waldorf is such a needy, demanding little thing. It must be the masochist in him.

"No"- Blair's brown eyes narrow on him, self-righteously indignant- "I know how Serena acts when she is in one of her lets-put-it-out moods. That was it. When I entered the room, it was full of sexual vibes. And her voice was flirty, even to my face! "

Chuck frowns, not quite sure of what to do with this information. Blair's instincts are good, but she is biased when it comes to his stepsister. Especially now. Besides, there's Nate, who would potentially be very upset by the issue, if it became real.

He chooses a diversionary tactic when the brunette settles herself on his knees with an irritated huff, grabbing the book away and putting it aside primly. He soothingly runs his fingers between her chocolate locks and decides to let the gravity slide, for the current moment. "There's just something about sex and Tripp that doesn't add up in my head. It must be that face. The prepubescent look is an excellent investment if you are into politics, not so much if you are going for free sex."

"S likes them better doll-faced and sneaky."

Again, he chooses to not remark that Serena's interest for Tripp sounds to his ears like nothing but the mirror of her old feelings for Nathaniel. It's why he is so reluctant to believe his sister would be so stupid as to pursue an actual affair with a Van der Bilt. Nate Archibald's Achilles' heel has always been his loyalty to his family; his friends know that better than anyone…to get in the way of that is to risk forever closing a door still semi-open.

"So you and S are broken up again? "

"I don't know"

Blair's shoulders sag a little in defeat, even if her voice is upbeat and strong. A random image of strangling Serena with her shiny blonde tresses flits fugaciously in his mind. Why is that some people need constant surveillance to not fuck their life up?

He tries not to compare beautiful, careless S's history to his own. Perhaps the reason the two of them have such an easy time overlooking each other's mistakes is that their differences shadow their similarities.

"All my hard work wasted," he laments in a lazy drawl, squeezing her shoulder.

"Speaking of which, I still have a punishment to deliver. What were you thinking, lending my corset to a call girl? "

"I was just trying to…stimulate myself. It's very difficult to enjoy fast food if you are used to a chef's cuisine."

"Flattery won't get you off the hook " she flirts, poking his chest.

"I didn't think so. I was rather considering making it up to you. All this tension has made you so stiff and edgy, you know the effect it has on me."

"Remind me," she commands, leaning a little toward him as his tongue curls around her earlobe. He covers with slow, wet kisses the curve between her jaw and collarbone and then there's a hot whisper right in her ear "What about a special massage instead? "

Arousal stirs in her belly, like a honeyed warmth that coils around both the sound and feel of his words and the mental pictures forming in her head. She loves Chuck's _special massages_.

"You will get the oil?"

"I have your very favorite at the ready."

Her answering grin is full-toothed and visibly elated.

"So what are you waiting for?"

Blair sheds her clothes with all the matter-of-fact deliberateness of someone who is merely going about collecting a debt, un-self-conscious and unhurried. Chuck gets in his purple silk dressing gown with the same sense of ease, shooting her a satisfied glance every once in awhile. When they are both ready, and she is good and sprawled over his beddings, gloriously naked, he nearly shakes in his head at how strangely _domestic_ this feels to him. If that's how routine feels, he has been missing out on the good stuff for most of his life.

She turns to lay on her stomach as he comes to sit on his side of the bed, and Chuck gently moves her dark, loose, soft mane off her neck and shoulders before generously oiling his hands. He works on the nape of her neck and watches as she inhales fully the scent of orange jasmine, obviously enjoying herself.

She once told him that this fragrance appealed to her senses in a way she hadn't experienced with anything more sophisticated.

Chuck runs his hands all over her back, paying attention to every crease, pleased with the sensation of that smooth expanse of creamy skin easily sliding under his palms. Kneading her flesh so slowly rouses a kind of unwearied hunger inside him and he likes it as much as the sight of her paleness gleaming in the dim lighting.

It takes a certain restraint to avoid the inviting curves of her ass, but hearing that disappointed sound escape from the back of her throat as his fingers glide around the back of her thighs is a worthy compensation.

He leaves feathery kisses over her spine and the flawless paleness of her shoulder blades, teases her with playful nips while his thumbs explore the backs of her knees.

"Get to the good part, Bass." Blair snips, fully relaxed but also eager for more.

"I thought you were more patient than that."

"I don't need to be patient. You are at my service tonight."

"True," he consents, fingers traveling upward again, cupping her buttocks and then stopping here. He reaches for the oil again, pretending not to notice that she is eyeing his moves intently. He returns to his task with a self-complacent smirk, revisiting the smooth planes of her back, suckling on the spots he has just massaged until she is breathing in sharply when his quest brings him a bit too close to her anus. Intrigued by her reaction, he lets his thumb inch closer to the forbidden place, his interest definitely piqued as she hides her face in the pillow, half-muffling a squeak.

Blair does not protest while he probes her there, poking in furtively before pushing inside more forcefully. In fact, there 's not a single sound uttered, whether in protest or otherwise, and Chuck discovers an entirely new level of awe.

Might Blair Waldorf be one of those girls who enjoys backdoor action, after all? The suggestion is delightfully shocking and it opens a whole world of possibilities that make his groin harden very, very painfully.

Striving to keep his mind off any scheme that might bring him to embarrass himself, he goes on loosening her ass gently, his other hand dipping between her legs and underneath, to caress her labia roughly.

Her silence breaks suddenly and harshly as Chuck fingers her swollen clit… her neck arches upward and she struggles on her elbows, her hips bucking against his hand as a strangled "Ah" echoes loud in the otherwise silent room.

He is shocked into stillness for a moment, whether by the intensity of her response or by the strength of his reaction to it. He has to close his eyes and inhale deeply to maintain control, because lust has just became a raging beast that tears at his insides in an insane struggle to escape its cage.

"Dammit, Chuck I swear to you, if you stop now-"

Her furious threat is never completed, since he adds a second finger to the first that is already plunging into her asshole.

"Oh, God that's so, so-" she all but whimpers, punching the mattress repeatedly to let out all the pent-up aggression and there's just something so very arousing about her frustration that it gets him far too close to his complete undoing.

"Fuck, Blair," he curses, voice roughened by passion, because he is close but he can't stop pleasing her. She is grinding on his palm, needy and slick and warm, coating him with her juices even while he's watching his fingers disappear again and again between those plump, pale, round cheeks. He has always loved her ass, but he has never imagined indulging in this particular guilty pleasure.

She comes hard in his hand, curling onto herself with a half-shriek, gripping his sheets desperately.

Chuck grits his teeth, fighting to control his body, his every instinct. To stay still and quiet instead of bending forward and taking what he wants. He forces his mind to go blank, because allowing his imagination to wander is not even an option. He is not certain what he could do if he indulged himself. He gets his hands off her, rolls over her spent body roughly.

She looks up at him with bright, wide, glazed eyes that do nothing to dissipate his urgency. Her white breasts, her waist, her belly, her pink mouth and glistening cunt …they are familiar territory whose call is as powerful as ever.

He wraps around his aching cock fingers that are still sticky and wet with her cum, meeting her dark eyes as she too, brings her trembling hand to her folds.

It's a short, sweet agony: three strokes and he is spending himself all over her sweaty flesh, thick spurts of his milky seed marring her pert tits, her hip and her flushed face. Blair is still bent, two of her fingers deep in her cunt, head thrown back as her red tongue darts out to lick him off her lips.

It's the hottest thing he has ever seen, and he can't avoid going down, lying beside her to draw her quivering form close while she touches herself with a fierce abandon.

When he finally feels her coming unraveled for the second time within the safe, possessive cocoon of his arms, her mouth open against his wiry chest in a last, high-pitched mewl, he is quite sure he'll get off to the memory of this night for the rest of his life.

---

The morning after the couple has breakfast in bed, so they have no way of realizing that Nate has made himself scarce way too early, springing out of his room red-faced and circumspect as never before in his life.

**Next on … 3.08:**** The Grandfather, Part 2!**


	3. Chapter 3

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR **

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Rating: Mature**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3. Currently on- post 3.08, Chuck helps Blair to feel better after the break with Serena. In a quite unorthodox manner.**

**Words: 2415**

**Ships: CB**

**Spoilers: up to ep.3.08**

**3.08:**** The Grandfather, Part 2!**

"I thought you said you were going home."

"I changed my mind."

"Well, if I'd known, I would have come sooner."

Chuck leans down to drop a kiss on her cheekbone, feeling a compulsive need to coddle his girlfriend just because she is sounding so sullen. "Did you ever find Brandeis?" he inquires, for good measure.

"Yes. We're not friends anymore. But that's okay. I have you. That's all I need."

And he smiles and kisses her cheek again, because she's all he needs, too, but this won't ever stop the world from leaving its scars on them. So he puts his arm around her properly and draws her closer. They spoon until her breathing pattern changes, and he notices she has fallen asleep. That's when he dares to leave her, fragile as she feels now to him, kissing her hair before moving away with an odd, useless reluctance. She looks lonely and small in his large, empty bed, and he dislikes the image.

Blair is so strong and resilient, but for that same reason, she is also easy to break: what doesn't accept to bending under pressure has to fray, sooner or later.

He won't allow her to splinter in his hands ever again.

---

Blair closes her eyes, only to open them in a world where Chuck Bass is dead, Serena has rushed from somewhere else for the occasion of his funeral, Nate is all sour-faced and silent, like he had just tasted something bad and couldn't spit it out. And Eleanor and everyone else insist that she and Nate should come together again, and she just wants to scream until her throat is raw … to let them all see that she can't play make-believe anymore, can't pretend again that Chuck has never existed.

So she runs, wandering around the world like a deranged woman, certain that if she can somehow collect all of Chuck's favorite things, they will somehow bring him back to life. But Chuck loved too many things and there's always some treasure missing, so she grows old and lost, an ugly hag still reaching out for a ghost she can no longer touch.

She awakes with a start, and the bed is empty, so for a horrible minute she doesn't know where the dream ends and reality starts. She feels weak, so weak and brittle that she can't move or call out for the life of her.

Then Chuck saunters in front of her eyes, clad in his pajamas, looking so handsome and solid that she needs to wrap her white robe tighter around herself to not pass out in relief.

"Was I asleep for long?" she asks, strangely uncertain.

"You just rested for about ten minutes" he shrugs, and she shudders in reply as he comes to sit behind her, snuggling her against his side "If you're cold, I can warm you up. "

She leans her head back on his shoulder, playing a bit with the idle suggestion before pressing her lips on his warm throat. "I quite feel like being punished, " she tries to pass casually, her voice small but suggestive.

"Feeling guilty for hanging with a prostitute? "

From the way he asks it, she knows he is only fishing for information, giving her an opening to talk if she wants.

Part of her wants to spill, to reveal how scared she is at this moment: her situation at NYU stays stale for the time being, and nothing is like it used to be and Serena won't accept she is not the centre of the universe.

It hurts, to realize that with Serena you can be either the handmaiden or nothing at all. It hurts that Blair sacrificed so much for her, that Serena won't ever be ready to do the same, that Serena won't accept that her best friend can have other priorities than her. It's so very tiring, always being the one who needs the most, who clings the most, who hurts the most when others leave and don't look back. Story of her life, really.

"It was just a bad day."

And Blair leaves it at that because if she says more, she won't be able to write this sense of brittleness off her script.

Chuck rubs her arms, as if fending off an imaginary cold, regaling her with one of those assertive, disturbing looks of his. "Serena is just being Serena. She'll come around."

He strives to sound soothing, although that is not really his element. He saw this same charade playing out many times before Serena left for Vermont. Inane fights where Queen S got tired of being criticized or mothered because of her lifestyle, and a younger Blair got weary of coming second, in regard to both Nate and the social status … every single time, they ended when S got in trouble and needed rescuing.

Except that high school is over, and burning bridges risks becoming easier than rebuilding them.

Why is that his sister can NEVER do as she is told?

"It doesn't matter. I'm tired of working so hard to keep her on track. I don't owe her anything and I most certainly don't owe her constantly putting my life on hold for her." Blair assures him flatly.

"Okay," Chuck nods, tucking a brown lock behind her ear and recognizing all signs of a Blair-in-denial gear.

"Will you take the material, already? " she exhales, her tone suddenly annoyed as her expression.

"The material?" he smirks, amused with her inability to name their toys properly.

She shoves him off the bed with a loud sigh "You know what I mean. Go do your duty, I need de-stressing!"

"And we know nothing unwinds you like a run in with a paddle and leather handcuffs"

She throws a pillow behind his retreating back."Why can't you be gentlemanly and _quiet_ about it!? "

"Then you wouldn't like me anymore"

--

When Chuck returns to her, they both wear their game faces. His is blank and gelid, with a hint of distaste written in the slight curl of his lips; hers is wide-eyed and anxious.

"Well, why aren't you naked yet? " he asks, and there's such a sense of superiority and command in his swagger, in the arrogant arch of his eyebrows that makes her weak at the knees.

She knows that voice: cool and smooth as water, controlled to hold her in its grasp, emotionless to sooth her nerves even while it wreaks havoc on her emotions. It's a master's voice. That voice is salvation and perdition and all the pleasure and pain in between.

She loosens her robe, getting sluggishly out of her panties before tugging it completely off her frame. She licks her dry lips as she turns her back on him, rising on her knees so she can brace herself on the bedpost.

Chuck saunters behind her without a word, ties her hands to the headboard with two pairs of those well-practiced leather handcuffs, minding that they are distant enough that she needs to crawl backward on her knees to maintain a tentative balance. He guides her movement, splaying his fingers on her bare abdomen to pull her back until her ass is in up in the air.

Undignified as it is, the position –and the frightening level of vulnerability that comes with it-gets her incredibly hot and bothered.

She feels exposed and bruised and almost…violated, but it's a game they have already played and those are the rules that will allow her not to break. As far as stress management strategies go, this one is so much better than sticking her fingers down her throat.

It's uncomfortable and embarrassing, but it also matches how she feels inside and that gives to her a kind of reprieve she can't properly articulate.

Chuck's palms glide over the exposed curve of her back, straying from her shoulder blades to graze the underside of her breasts, from her waist to linger higher, on her belly.

She bites the inside of her cheek as he caresses her everywhere, determined to silence that insidious whisper in the back of her mind that taunts about how she is not beautiful, not enough for anyone, even herself, that she is ridiculous and that he is already noticing every grotesque flaw in her appearance, now that she has allowed him to touch her so intimately.

"I love it when you are such a good, obedient girl." Chuck comments, tone calm and clipped in a way that strokes the fire between her thighs, patting her ass in a self-satisfied fashion.

Then he runs his hands down the backs of her thighs. "But not as much I love touching you. You are always so smooth and soft and inviting."

Fingers fist her hair and pull back hard, making it hurt as a hiss escapes through her clenched teeth.

"So beautiful. And you love to be touched, don't you, sweetie?"

Blair feels far too aware of both the wetness slickening her throbbing sex and the tears sliding quietly down her cheek.

"Admit it, at least"

The pulling on her hair grows harder with her silence, but it's only when the pain is enough to blind her that she gives in.

"I like it."

"You like what, exactly? Tsk, I thought college girls were supposed to be articulate."

Fingers creep up her inner thigh, nails digging in a delicious punishment, and Blair doesn't bother containing her shuddering gasp.

"I like being touched."

"Be more sincere," he insists, voice even sterner than when they had begun, and it's really, really difficult to remember if the emotion that fills her to the brim is hatred or love.

"I like being touched"- she repeats, raw and broken but also somehow proud, despite herself- "but I've only ever _loved_ it when it was you."

Chuck's hands go still on her for what feels like an eternity, and she feels the discomfort of sincerity warring with the satisfaction of having preserved a measure of control over her 'master'.

Then she feels his lips pressing on the small of her back, pressing a suckling kiss on her. "Sweet, B." He concedes, and there's no mockery in it at all.

Chuck lets out a low whistle of appreciation, just for effect, and then picks up the paddle she had left over the side of the bed. Blair shivers in anticipation, looking at it with a reluctant fondness.

It's red and large, and it would look like a boat's paddle if not for those few holes it had. She makes a mental note to ask Chuck if those served any particular purpose- except producing that whistling sound- just out of scientific interest. He would have probably made fun of her, the way he had once he had 'challenged' her to watch whole a porn movie, only to have her complaining that the plot made no sense. Ah, those days she was innocent…

Her short journey down memory lane ends abruptly with a loud hissing noise that barely precedes the painful collision of wood against her buttocks.

Blair whimpers unashamedly through the first five hits, welcoming the release that comes with an utter lack of restraint.

Just when she is feeling like her whole body is on fire, and her blood is rushing in her ears, and she can swear she has never felt more alive, it stops.

"Keep that lovely mouth shut for me now, love. Be _good_. Show some restraint. "

He would sound insulting if his breath wasn't ragged. She smiles a bit at that, hornier with every passing second, and squares her jaw before he can notice. Yet, she thinks his attempts to maintain an imposing façade are to be commended – actually she has many, vivid ideas about how she might manifest her admiration, if her mouth was in proximity of a certain, valued part of his anatomy- because if their roles were reversed, she would be already riding him _hard._

Blair holds onto a stubborn silence as she is hit harder every one of the next six times.

Her last coherent consideration is that he must be a talented bastard, to bring her to the point she feels nothing but an aching need to be fucked into non-existence.

As a matter of fact, the imposed silence just forces her to keep her dirty, dirty mind on how warm and ready she feels. Every other feeling has fallen away, somewhere along the way, and just animalistic instinct has survived.

She doesn't even notice how or when she has come to sob, but she notices when the oversensitive flesh of her buttocks is caressed soothingly by cooler fingertips that eventually trace –too slowly- her the crack of her ass and find their way down.

She groans as his touch reaches where she has needed it the most all along. "Please" she cries, pushing her cunt against his hand, and moans while two fingers dip in, testing her, stretching her.

"Chuck," she calls again, and he comes to cover her, his cock teasing her wet opening, his arms stretching so each one of his hands can rest beside one of hers.

"Do you want them off? "He mutters huskily, his right thumb brushing the leather as if to explain better.

Blair simply shakes her head in negation, or tries to, at least. It's not easy, since they are cheek to cheek, his chin lying in the crook of her shoulder.

"Just screw me and be done with it."

And so he does, filling her so good than she is jarred forward as she moans in that special rush of Chuck-Bass induced euphoria.

It feels so wonderful, even the most hidden figments of her self hum with elation and pleasure and yet it keeps getting better and better with every thrust.

Chuck is so very close, pushing deeper and deeper, his mouth fastening on her bare arm as he groans. Hearing him so wild, for her, just makes it incredibly easy to lose it.

In that sweaty, dirty, messy tangle of arms and legs, she loses her grip on control and reason, and for an instant she might bet she has stopped being to dissolve into nothing but thick, pure desire.

Slumping forward, she giggles giddily- it feels natural, she is just so very _happy_- and Chuck slumps on her, breathless and warm, just the next moment.

If he finds her reaction odd, he doesn't show it. He only stays wrapped around her, breathing her in, until she is done and nudging him off her body so her sore arms can get some relief.


	4. Chapter 4

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR **

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Words: 687**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3. Currently on- post3.02: a snapshot of Chuck and Blair plotting against Carter**

**Rating: PG13**

**Ship: CB**

**AN: This is for Ziah, who leaves me with the most beautiful, long, detailed reviews EVER! I swear I might continue this story just in order to keep reading them. And because you cured of my bad mood over Nyx Underwood's hard loss, I will get both your requests realized…eventually! **

**3.02: The Freshman**

"You are being weird about this." She comments suddenly, hand under her chin in a thoughtful pose.

"I'm not," he scoffs in response.

"You know you are! We have been plotting Carter's downfall for nearly one hour and you've been so…matter-of-fact about it. No gloating at all!" There's a knowing look on Blair's face now, like she's sure her boyfriend can't deny her observations or their meaning.

Unaffected by her certainty, the latter just shrugs "I loathe the guy and all, but it's hard to get excited when my woman is so passionate about destroying her …ex-_bedmate._"

"Urgh. Are you jealous of him?" She sounds something in between outraged, surprised and pleased at that, like she can't decide which feeling to focus on, but it's just a fleeting moment and then she's shaking her head and rolling her eyes in mockery.

"Please. I'm not jealous of him any more than I am over your dislike of Nate's new toys. I know you have issues with being replaced. "

Her eyes narrow at his condescending tone, but she doesn't argue his point. He is sort of right, although she dislikes acknowledging it. "This is not about that, Chuck."

And she looks away with a deep, irritated sigh, staring ahead and hiding from those dark eyes that seem to absorb every thought she has ever had. Sometimes she wishes he were not so good at picking up on the unsaid. "He. Used. Me. He saw me at my lowest and he took advantage of that, got his rocks off over it. It makes it even worse that I was aware of it the whole time. I wanted that, and I thought I deserved it, and I hate remembering I sunk so low. The very thought that he has ever seen me naked gives me chills. "

She doesn't add that it's pretty much the same way Jack made her feel, because it's the one topic she and Chuck still skirt around. The one sin of hers Chuck almost couldn't get over.

Blair hates that she put herself through that shame, that self-defilation. That willing degradation of a body she has always struggled to reconcile herself with.

She hates the very idea that someone has found her weakness and taken note of it, only to use it in order to get off. It's disgusting.

"Oh, I share the feeling far too much " Chuck flips back, but the sarcasm is dulled by a sort of pensive gentleness. So Blair looks back at him, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

A waiter from room service interrupts whatever cinema moment they could have had, and it pisses her off. Especially since the cup in front of her has mixed sliced fruit _and_ gelato. With chocolate chips!

"I had asked for a simple _fruit salad_, not _this_. Do you know the difference?" She says it so disdainfully that the older man actually flushes, more in annoyance than embarrassment, if she is to judge from the twist of his lips. The nerve of him…

Chuck cuts his probably pathetic excuses off "I corrected your order a bit. There are universities to conquer, wastes of space to destroy, plots to realize, Humphreys to stomach ahead. I need to know you can face it all well-fed. "

Blair 's proud stance softens a little with his words. She loves being taken care of, regardless of how misdirected his attempts are. "A lady always leaves her table with a little of appetite. I hate feeling full."

Yet, it's just an afternoon snack break after all, and it seems harmless enough to indulge the coddling once in a while, despite Eleanor's teachings.

Also, the gelato looks tempting. It must be cream. Chuck knows she favors it."Whatever, Waldorf. What about tonight then? What if as I light-heartedly ravish you, you end up feeling spent and tired? I'll be _disappointed_. "

He makes it sound like the worst tragedy ever, and even Blair Waldorf must cave at that degree of ridiculousness. Her boyfriend is such a _child_ sometimes, she muses as she brings a spoonful to her mouth.

_Delicious._


	5. Rufus is Getting Married

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR **

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Words: 1109**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3. Currently on- post3.05: An interesting conversation after the ceremony. **

**Rating: PG13**

**Ship: CB**

**Spoilers: up to 3.05**

**3.05: Rufus Getting Married**

"So it's officially finalized: I lost my _mother_"- he sneers on the word, just to prove he doesn't mean it- in Brooklyn. Although, now that I think about it, it's more the other way around."

"Eww! Chuck!"

"Blair! That actually hurt!"

"So did the visual you just put in my head! It didn't even make sense. It was just…gross for grossness' sake!"

He rolls his eyes at her, unrepentant, rubbing his still-sore shoulder. "I liked how the line sounded."

Blair's scowl falls in favor of the prettiest of her nasty smiles

"I bet he'll get her to wear his flannel after sex. Your big family will have breakfast with waffles as she has that horrid thing draped around her shoulders. "

And her smile grows with the distaste that spreads on her boyfriend's face. "Lily _wouldn't_"

"Do I need to remind you of all the transformations she went through along her previous relationships?"

"Well, it's not like I will be there to see it. " There's a bitter undercurrent to the words that brings them both back to reality. He looks away from her, not sure of why he sounded the way he just did, but embarrassed nonetheless. She runs her hand up his arm, acting more on the instinct to bring him back to her than to soothe, but the effect is the same. His eyes return to hers, responding to the same impulse.

"You get to see me in La Perla lingerie. I expect it's better."

"It is."

And just like that, they tacitly agree to pretend his life has not just gotten a _lot_ more complicated. It would take merely a word from Jenny to irreparably fray Chuck's tentative bond with Lily, and therefore with Bart's legacy and past. Blair prays the day never comes, but she hardly trusts the little blonde parasite. Daddy's angel is just as petty as Blair, and far less loyal. It's difficult to fully believe Jenny will not exploit her advantage, sooner or later, simply out of sympathy for her father or Eric.

Yet, the very act of attending Lily's wedding with Chuck has given Blair a bad case of butterflies at the most random moments. Like while they were dancing, or when they turned toward each other after the bride's little speech, the unspoken certainty that someday it was going to be _their _words lingering in the air.

She wants that more than anything, and it was a good day, after all, and she won't see it uselessly spoiled.

"So"- Blair chirps, eager to redirect conversation elsewhere- "About Bree Buckley… "

Her fingers pull at the lapels of his jacket, playful, and Chuck fends them off in all seriousness.

"Has nobody ever told you that going rabid on _the_ ex's current lover makes you look, let's say…pathetic?"

Pressing herself against his side for no particular reason, except the fact Chuck has just shrugged _her_ off; Blair tilts her head toward him with an air of barely restrained superiority. "Since you are _virgin _when it comes to relationships, I'll enlighten you to rules: a woman very rarely likes an ex's first new girlfriend, even if she has dumped the guy first, or genuinely hates his guts. It's universal breakup etiquette: until the ex dates again, you can feel like the winner."

"I don't see Serena bending to this _law. _"

"Serena always feels like the winner, anyway. And she has this weird fixation on being everybody's friend."

"Or maybe, it's just the developing sibling camaraderie between her and Humphrey Junior. They look nothing but platonic side by side."

There's a sort of aloofness in his expression now, a distance in his eyes that Blair is no longer used to, and it says to her that he's not jealous as much as hurt.

"So do Nate and I, and you saw it even before we did."

"Nathaniel probably thinks you are jealous of him."- Chuck comments, almost sullenly. – "I could tell. "

She shakes her head, not quite believing he is using _Nate_ to press the issue and hoping he hasn't really convinced himself of that rubbish. _Men!_

"_Nathaniel_ of all people understands our last encore was all about you. For _both_ him and me. The one person who thinks I was jealous is you. Besides, I _was_n't jealous, if you must know. I was just being _protective_ of an old friend, who happens to have bad discriminative instincts when it comes to women."

He clutches her hips, pulling her tight against his body, and nods with apparent nonchalance "Sure."

A smirk creeps upon his lips, and she can literally see his mind switching into sex-now mode, because his expression reflects the change, from closed up to artificially open.

_Avoidance, much?_

Just as he is leaning forward for a kiss, Blair pushes him back a little, taking his face between her hands and making sure his gaze is leveled with hers once more.

For a moment, it's blatantly clear her gesture has startled him, if anything else for the sense of déjà vu that thickens the air between them. "You know there's only one reason I agreed to give Carter Baizen a fair, clean chance, right? "

"You were 99 % sure he would fuck it up soon enough?" Chuck guesses, hopeful, although he is quite sure it is not. He has been trying truly hard to not think about his role in the whole matter. He didn't like seeing his sister so worried over that gambling home-wrecker…it made him vaguely wish he had left Carter free to ruin his opportunities by himself.

"No, silly, that was you."- Blair punctuates her sugary-sweet tone with a peck on his lips before drawing back and continuing, more softly-"If there was even the slimmest, most miserable possibility that Carter was Serena's you, I didn't want to be the one to take it away."

She feels her cheeks burning at the last admission, an unusual shyness looming over her.

Chuck clears his throat, trying to appear utterly unaffected. "I resent the comparison," he grumbles, but the arms around her waist come to hold her both looser and closer.

"You are prettier"-she concedes- "and richer."

"Smarter and wittier, too."

"Well, I'm sharper than Serena, so it all sums up nicely."

And then, exasperated with her boyfriend's determined attempts to steer romanticism away, she slants her lips over his, effectively cutting off his next inanity.

The kiss doesn't last long, since Blair has never mastered the art of shutting her brain up and letting it go before she has said all she had to say about anything.

"So," - she breathes out on his chin- "Next time you decide to have a hissy fit over nothing, leaving me all tense and bothered, remember what we have and remember that there's no part of me that is not completely yours, for whatever insane reason."

"Which hissy fit?"

"You are impossible"

"Yet you love me all the same. I knew it already."

He can play it as a joke, but in the end, that's the truth he has never doubted for a single second, whether he was pissed at her interest in Bree or not.

"Asshole," she smiles fondly, allowing him to kiss her again, more deeply.

**AN: I know some people were pissed that Blair was acting a bit territorial toward Bree in the episode, but it never looked like jealousy to me. It was more like a bitchy mother going off on her son's dinner date…and not too unlike the way Blair reacted toward Vanessa and the Duchess, at first, only a bit worse.**

**I think Blair genuinely disliked Bree and her personal issues-, which I already acknowledged in the previous chapter- made the rest. She would probably have reacted differently if Nate had dated someone she already knew. **


	6. Enough About Eve

**THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING CHUCK AND BLAIR **

**Author: sky samuelle**

**Words: 2085**

**Summary: a series of post-episodic vignettes featuring all snarky, fluffy or steamy lost moments of CB relationship in season 3. Currently on - post 3.06, Blair finds a way to apologize to Chuck. **

**Rating: Mature**

**Ship: CB**

**Spoilers: up to 3.06**

**Summary: **

**AN: For Ziah, who wanted a reconciliation post 3.06 and for infinitywr, who has requested a long, slow …you know what (was that long enough?). For Emmy, who is the most awesome beta ever. I could never do this without her.**

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3.06: Enough About Eve

"Eric-"

He half-turns, but it's not his brother he find himself facing. It's his _girlfriend_. With her hair piled on the top of her head- leaving exposed that lovely nape he can't currently see-and a purple dress, casual yet elegant. In short, it's Blair Waldorf in full battle gear.

He would admire her style if he weren't still very annoyed with her. He has missed her, and he should be blind and gay to not appreciate her flawless appearance, but her persistence to have her way regardless of his feelings is incredibly irritating.

It has taken two days of short, tense phone-calls to have Blair fully accept the fact that her boyfriend was avoiding her. The first night he sent her away, saying he had a meeting, not quite accepting her plea for forgiveness, she felt like fear was suffocating her. She had fallen asleep sobbing, unable to escape the sense of loss, the miserable certainty that Chuck would begin to once again run away from her.

By the third morning, she was determined to reasonably decline any request of a break up he could propose.

So she has ambushed him in his suite, with the complicity of little Eric, who made sure that Chuck cleared his evening for him.

But now that she is here, for the life of her, she can't recall a word of all the nice speeches she had rehearsed with Dorota before.

Her mind went blank the moment she met his eyes and realized he wasn't happy to see her. There's no smirk, no smile to welcome her arrival for the first time in so long, and it's crushing.

"Eric has left. He thought we could use some time alone."

"I see." He replies coolly, and she wants to stomp her foot down and throw a tantrum. This is not how it's supposed to be with them. He isn't supposed to withhold his emotions from her anymore. She is supposed to read him, and they are supposed to be able to get over anything. This chilly, frustrating distance has no place between the two of them.

"You've been avoiding me." Blair exhales, eyes sad and voice defeated as it is accusing, although her expression remains proudly neutral.

"I've been busier than usual, working, catching up with my little brother."

"You wanted time away from me"

He doesn't deny it, just shakes his head and sighs deeply like she has just disappointed him once again. "I'm not going to break with you, Blair."

He says it so seriously, yet it doesn't entirely convince her.

"Then talk me!"- she snaps, startled by the pleading note that has slipped into her tone- "Stop punishing me. I know I made a mistake, but it can't cost us all we have. "

"Did you hear the part where I told you this is _not_ a break up?"- he snaps back, exasperated- "What do you expect me to say? I don't love you any less. I still feel the same, _exactly_ the same as I did two days ago. That doesn't mean I can just act like nothing has happened. What you did to me matters. It was serious to me. "

"I _am_ sorry." She repeats through the knot in her throat, trying to not take offense at how resentful he sounded as he said his feelings had not changed. Like he thought they should have, and blamed himself for being weak. Like he believed she somehow tricked him into loving her too much.

"You could have asked me"-he accuses her, his anger reaching out to her underneath the apparent calm-"When have I ever refused to take part in one of your schemes? You preferred using me instead. My trust is not a joke you can toss around in other people's faces. "

"That's not how I see it, I swear to you. You know how bitchy I get when I decide to gloat, and I had nothing to gloat over for so long ….I mouthed off without thinking. "

"I hope so, because I won't be your next trophy date!"

The allusion to Nathaniel is quite transparent, but however clear that is, she knows that picking up on it directly would just make him angrier.

"I could never see you that way, Chuck. I just didn't think of involving you directly. I guess I'm so used to organizing this sort of stuff on my own, I didn't figure out that I don't need to, anymore. I promise it's not going to happen again. "

She has never hesitated to use Chuck as her henchman in the past, but he was not her boyfriend then, and she is not used to exploiting her boyfriends _while_ they are aware of it.

"You already said that," he snorts, sitting on his leather armchair and diverting his gaze from her.

"I mean it," she reassures, her voice steadier, as she comes closer. He continues to look away as she leans in to cup his cheek.

"I _do _respect you. More than anyone else in my life."

At that, he finally looks up, engaging her eyes with a startlingly accusatory glare, like he is silently willing her to stop lying.

"And why would you?" Chuck nearly snarls, staring at her even more intensely now, if possible, and she is quiet for a moment because he's challenging her and this is not a test she can afford to fail.

"I respect you because you aren't afraid to be yourself even when others dislike you for it. Because you know how to fix your friends' problems without ever needing to be thanked for it, and because you forgive them so easily. Because you lie and deceive admirably well, but you say the truth even better. Because you never follow anyone's fashion advice but your own. I respect you because you always know how to break me and how to fix me."

She caresses his face softly, fingers trailing over his jaw and neck as the angry shadows behind his eyes recede. "I respect you because you are smart and proud and ambitious and witty."

"I respect you because you have good taste, a biting sarcasm, a wonderful sense of humor. Because you are loyal to those you care about and ruthless to those you don't."

She dares a bit, now, laying her lips on his cheek in a lingering peck."I respect you because you don't fear seeing the truth, whether you like it or not. You don't let me hide from myself. You are stubborn, proud and more perceptive than people give you credit for."

She smiles thinly at that, although she has rarely felt so exposed in her life. Chuck is not stopping her, but he isn't saying anything back either. She would be worried over that if not for the expression on his face as he is taking her in, guarded but also…greedy, for lack of a better word.

"I do and say things with you I wouldn't even consider with anyone else. If that is not respect, I don't know what is."

"Okay," Chuck nods, rubbing her arm awkwardly, after a silent pause, and she uses his moment of weakness to take his face between her palms and kiss him gently. He allows it to go on for a good while before he accepts that she is not going to stop anytime soon and encircles her waist with his arms.

Blair kisses her way from his jaw to his throat, enjoying the feeling of his fingers tangling in her locks as he leans back.

She unbuttons his collar, then the rest of his shirt, her mouth nibbling and kissing the skin she is slowly exposing to her ministrations.

Eventually she disposes of his belt, staring firmly back at him as she fists his dick.

"Are you going to bribe me with sex?" Chuck smirks, taunting with an unusual gentleness, and it makes her feel better. For the first time she feels nothing short of certain she is not going to lose him.

"I'm just bringing evidence to my argument."

And with that, she slides off him and onto her knees, his thighs spreading to accommodate her.

She licks her lips, surrendering to the arousal that flares up in her belly. It feels like her skin is on fire, her sex throbbing with a pleasant, eager warmth.

She runs her tongue along his length and the salty taste of his skin there makes her tremble, invading her senses and somehow branding her.

Her gaze finds him looking down on her feverishly, his lips pressed in a thin white line in order not to moan, but when she goes on and he does moan, the husky sound sends her whole body humming with desire.

Blair breathes in deeply before taking him completely into her mouth, not stopping until she feels his tip hitting the back of her throat, closing her eyes when he groans in appreciation.

"I love your mouth," he growls, but all she hears is _I love you_ and deep down that's what he means, anyways.

She works him slowly, the way he taught her so long ago, when he still needed to both provoke and reassure her every step of the way, and the memory is still the strongest aphrodisiac.

It's just fitting, that they had to belong to each other, when they had accidentally ended up entrusting with the other the one thing they feared the most. His heart, her body, so slowly awoken in each other's clumsy hands.

They don't shy away from this simple truth anymore, and so it's not a defeat when he comes hard in her mouth, and she doesn't feel demeaned swallowing down his seed. Or even after, when she pulls back to clean her lips with the back of her hand, her breathing short and her pussy painfully unsatisfied.

Chuck is breathing hard too, and the look that passes between them is full of wonder. He grabs her arms firmly, hoisting her up so she can brace herself on his shoulders, her knees levering on each side of him. Then he lifts her skirt up, not bothering to ask for permission before one of his hands dips between her legs, finding her bare and wet, the other grasping her hip.

"You certainly know how to disarm a man, " he comments, half-awed, half-satisfied. There are no traces of resentment in any part of him now, and that brings a sultry smile to her lips.

Well, that and the way he is stroking her.

"I had the best teacher," Blair manages to gasp, barely a moment before his fingers find her opening and stretch her wide.

She undulates above him and his eyes are so very fervent on her face, hungry for every scrap of emotion reflected on her twisting features. She has never quite felt so naked while having so much clothing still on, but that weakness has a beauty all its own, and when she comes, his taste still heavy on her tongue, it feels like the world is shattering around her.

Her breasts heave and her cry of release falls upon his open lips as he lunges to possess her mouth.

Blair Waldorf crumbles to pieces, fear and longing and unspeakable pleasure pressing on her chest like an unbearable weight. But it's okay, because there are two strong arms –_his_ arms- clutching her to him, setting a claim on every scattered splinter of her damaged self.

Even while he licks the tears off her wet cheeks- tears she never noticed crying- she is far too aware that she wouldn't have it any other way.

**AN2: Yes, 3.06 and 3.07 were my most favorite episodes EVER. I ADORE Season 3. I wish I could incorporate a bit of DV and NS in this little series of mine, because I love those couples, but my purpose here was to stay CB centric, so I won't stray. Still, I love the contrast of the DV blossoming romance and the NS overdramatics to CB's steadiness. I'm fully confident that when those couples are fully established, the focus will return to CB. I'm so proud that we get to see these beautiful glimpses of their mature, functional relationship. It's basically like they are already married. I hope we won't lose this dynamic when the time comes to bring them back on the center stage. I would prefer that CB get good, separate storylines and that they supported each other through them rather than seeing a return to S2-inspired mindless drama.**

**SO HAPPY CHRISMAS! I hope you all enjoyed my small gift!**


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